Sneaker Pimp: Kyrie Irving isn’t just fast on the floor—that’s the best way to describe how his rep’s grown off it as well. I moved from Brooklyn to Montclair, NJ, more than five years ago. It’s a cool little city about 15 miles west of Manhattan with a pretty serious football culture, but neither its private nor public high schools are known for producing big-time basketball players (excepting my man Tall Kamal, of course). So imagine my surprise when, as I started reading the Montclair Timesand talking to plugged-in locals, I learned that Montclair Kimberley Academy boasted a high-major prospect from nearby West Orange. It was Kyrie, of course, and he was making a name for himself thanks to his ability to run a team and get in the lane whenever he wanted to. Still, you weren’t exactly hearing “future first-round pick” or “future NBA Rookie of the Year” attached to his name.

Starting at the end of his sophomore year in ’08, however, when Kyrie transferred from MKA to national power St. Patrick in Elizabeth, things started accelerating like Kyrie on a fast break. He became the leader of a team that had long-touted Michael Gilchrist on it. “High-major” became “Duke University-bound.” And not even a foot injury during his one season in Durham could stop Kyrie from becoming, indeed, the first pick in the ’11 NBA Draft. ROY honors followed in turn. What’s next? All-Star Games? The Playoffs? Sneaker campaigns? At this rate, all that and more!

Welcome, to a land where few sports stories, no matter how drippingly juicy or boringly dry, go underreported. Welcome, to a time when the act of breaking news on Twitter has evolved into such a compulsive race that hoax accounts spring up like weeds with the sole intent of spreading false stories. Welcome, most importantly, to the rare compelling and telling tale that somehow basically evaded both the real and faux newswire.

Everyone—more likely, almost everyone—has heard the name Kyrie Irving. Chances are, of those Everyones, most know, minimally, that Irving, a first-year point guard for the Cleveland Cavaliers, won the ’11-12 NBA Rookie of the Year award. What only a small sliver of those Everyones know, though, is what Irving did with the complimentary Kia Sorrento that came with the award.

Sandy Pyonin, coach of the AAU-affiliated NJ Roadrunners and childhood trainer to a robust list of NBA players, has a tendency to make bold, bombastic statements about his players. Sandy also has a tendency to work his players to the point of excellence and puts them in position to make his big statements appear prescient.

When he first started training Kyrie Irving circa 2005, Pyonin wasn’t wowed enough to go out on a lean limb and say something of extreme note about the eighth-going-on-ninth-grader. “I was pretty high on him,” Sandy now says, “but Kyrie’s come a long way in a short time.” Despite Irving’s ceiling being slightly hazy, Pyonin was willing to take him on as a student, was willing to pick him up every single day from his home in West Orange and drive him down the Parkway to his gym in Union.

“His father [former BU star Drederick Irving] turned him over to me,” Sandy recalls, before verbally dapping his handiwork, “and I picked him up every day—every day—and we trained, and we trained, and we trained. You know, he knows how much time we spent together and how he got to that level that fast.”

Persistence in picking up Kyrie, even in rain, snow and gloom of Jersey night, paid dividends to the passenger and the driver: Irving not only made the NBA as the No.1 pick in the ’11 NBA Draft, he also won Rookie of the Year, and Pyonin was subsequently gifted a brand-new Sorrento, which he can now use to spirit around his latest, greatest pupils.

“It was more of a monumental thing, giving him a car,” Irving says. “Once I first got with Sandy, he picked me up every day. There wasn’t one day—if I told Sandy I didn’t want to go, he’d still come to my house and knock on my door and ask me if I really did not want to go. There was no way he not gonna bring me to the gym and have me work on my game. It was that type of relationship.”

The Kia is more than just a car, and this is more than just an anecdotal story. It’s a peek into the heart of a 20-year-old NBA player who’s well on his way to earning the rank of an exalted status on and off the court.

——

It’s mid-morning on the first Wednesday in August, and Kyrie Irving is tired. Hell, he’s not tired. He’s bone-tired, the tired that slows your reflexes and drops your voice half an octave. After returning to New Jersey late yesterday evening after enjoying a trip to the Caribbean— his first planned vacation as an NBA player—Irving hung out with a few friends in the Garden State and turned around and took a 5:30 a.m. flight to make it here to the KICKS cover shoot.

Irving didn’t only, despite his walking-dead state, make the shoot. Along with three friends who accompanied him on vacay—“They’ve been with me since the beginning”—he arrived to the sparkling state-of-the-art practice facility early, a rare feat for bench players let alone a burgeoning star. As I had been told beforehand by his godfather, former NBA great Rod Strickland, and others, and as I’d find repeatedly throughout our time together, that’s just Kyrie.

What’s also Kyrie, at least today, is a removable soft cast that covers his right hand and prevents him from shaking my hand properly—we settled for an awkward right meets left shake—and also from showing off his treacherous to-and-fro crossover for the camera. Though a cast doesn’t sound like it makes for snazzy pictures, at least it’s removable. After learning of Irving’s injury, suffered during a mid-July Cleveland practice in preparation for Las Vegas Summer League, I feared, as a fan of breathtaking basketball, that he’d be out for an extended period. I feared, as a selfish KICKS writer, that he’d be stuck in a cast and unable to pose for photos. All fears, as I realized when Kyrie unwrapped his hand and started gently horsing around with a ball, that were unfounded.

“I fractured a bone by my pinkie, and I just had to get six screws put in,” Irving says, taking a moment to rotate and show off his swollen, stitched up and shiny left-side of his right paw. “I should be [good to go] in like three weeks. It’s not that bad. It’ll all work out in the end.”

Less than a half-hour later, with his body more awake and his hand feeling better, while tossing in layups and short off-handed jumpers, Irving offers up without prompting that if the Cavs had some sort of Game 7 today, he’d manage to find a way to play through his pain.

I’m sure Kyrie believes what he’s saying, but I’m not sure it’s plausible—after all, just 30 minutes prior to that proclamation he couldn’t shake a pen-stained hand. Regardless, it’s a moot point, as Irving is geared up in the Cavs’ wine-colored jersey and toting various Nike Hyperdunk +s for magazine portraits, not game-action.

Far from the average 20-year-old, Kyrie does have at least one thing in common with his peers: He’s quite the multitasker. While juggling between posing for camera clicks, pausing to pick up his ever-ringing iPhone and examining freshly steamed outfits, Irving talks about the unique way his extensive collection of sneakers came into existence.

“My dad always made me earn all my kicks,” says Irving. “If I played well, he’d let me create some shoes on NikeiD, or if I played well he’d buy me some sneakers as a sort of incentive or motivation.”

It goes without saying, then, that Irving had a sizable stack of Swooshes by the time Nike officially inked him to a contract in 2011, before his near-unanimous ROY-winning season kicked off.

Having the keys to Phil Knight’s kingdom means the pairs No. 2 wears are one-of-a-kinds that allow him to stand out.

“I design all my own colorways,” Irving, who played his rookie season in Hyperdunk 2011s and won’t wear other players’ signature shoes, says. “It’s not trying to stand out in a bad way; it’s just my style. I love standing out.”

——

Tony Jones still remembers the first time he saw Kyrie Irving play.

It was during the fall of Irving’s eighth grade, after an organizer of a local league hipped Jones, the varsity coach at Montclair Kimberley Academy, to a pretty good player whose father was seeking an academically sound prep school for him to attend. Interest piqued, Jones attended one of Irving’s junior high games, and was immediately struck by two things: Despite a scrawny build and the lack of elite athleticism, Kyrie could control the game like a savant from the point guard spot.

“His basketball IQ was at the collegiate level, and his skill set was also very good,” Jones says. “And he wasn’t dunking or anything like that, but he could finish on anyone. People know now he can finish, but he was finishing at that age.”

Though Jones appreciated what he saw and eventually coached Irving his first two years of high school—before “Ky” transferred and finished his growth spurt to 6-2 at prep powerhouse St. Patrick’s—he never, based on that first evaluation, could have predicted Irving would end up where he has.

“His dad saw in him what maybe other people didn’t,” Jones says. “His dad believed in him, I guess as a father should, more than anyone.”

“I’ve always thought Kyrie had the ability to do whatever,” Drederick—or as many people call him, Dred—Irving says to kick off our conversation. “As long as he followed our simple blueprint.”

When most fathers say their sons are very good at ball, they often have no frame of reference and are just saying it out of fatherly affection. When Dred says his son—who is the middle child, smothered between two successful sisters—is good, the former BU star and pro player in Australia, where Kyrie was actually born, knows what he’s saying. “Once he embraced his skill set and his talent,” says Dred, “I think that was the beginning of Kyrie’s stardom. Once he figured it out, he never looked back.”

Like Jones says, though, a lot of other people didn’t see stardom in Kyrie. In fact, to hear Irving himself tell it, people have underestimated him at every step along the way: They doubted him when he was in eighth grade and small; they doubted him when he was dominating at small, unknown MKA; they doubted him after he suffered a severe toe injury at Duke and only played 11 games; and they doubted him when he was drafted No.1 overall. “It’s just about proving people wrong,” Kyrie says. “They said I couldn’t shoot, I’m not explosive enough to be an elite point guard—I just use that as motivation.”

Truth is, in fact, at least one other guy saw the signs early in Kyrie, but people dismissed him as being partial and an unfit judge. “I see his skill level, and he’s as good as anybody. I think he can be as good as anybody. I think he has that type of ability,” Strickland, Dred’s childhood backcourt mate, says, singling out Kyrie’s wicked handle and ambidextrous finishes. “But I always felt like people thought I was saying that because that was family. But I wasn’t.”

The critics and doubters are one motivation for Kyrie, but family has always been the engine that kept him chugging. Every time Irving takes the court in an NBA uniform, he is repping for his mom, who passed away when he was 4, with the tattoos on his chest and stitching on his shoes. Every time he takes the court, he is putting on for his sisters, he is playing for his dad, who was an exceptional talent but never played in the NBA.

“I rep for my whole family,” says Irving, “but more importantly for my father. Sometimes it still hits him to this day, ‘Really, my son’s in the NBA.’ Sometimes it has to hit me, too. We lived such normal lives that now, me signing so many autographs, him being there, us reaping so many rewards from it, it’s just lovely.”

“It’s just overwhelming as a parent,” says Dred. “This is better [than if I would have played in the NBA]. This is why we live—we want our kids to be better than us. But it’s not about me, it’s about him. We all want to see our kids smile and do something that they love, and this is something I know he just loves and he’s ready to capitalize on it.”

By now there is no question that Irving is good—great—on the court. There’s also growing evidence that he’s got just as much going for him off of it.

On May 18, Pepsi uploaded a video to its YouTube page entitled, “Pepsi MAX & Kyrie Irving Present: ‘Uncle Drew.’” Ten weeks later, the video has a shade under 14 million views, the term “Uncle Drew” returned more than 36 million Google hits and Irving has reached newfound celebrity status that even winning Rookie of the Year couldn’t give him.

“When I see people I’m also known as Uncle Drew,” Irving, who co-wrote the skit and based it largely off of a similarly themed skateboard spoof, says. “Uncle Drew in the airport, Uncle Drew in The Bahamas, Uncle Drew everywhere.”

As the video’s viral success shows, Irving is quite possibly the game’s next big marketing star. After all, why not? He’s camera-ready (singing in the school show at St. Pat’s helped him overcome stage fright), charismatic (that comes from his dad, who’s also a people-person), comfortable in his skin (“that’s just me”) and well-rounded (tried out for football as a freshman, skateboarded for four years and played varsity baseball as a high school senior).

Irving refers to himself as the “Universal Player” because of the way his game was honed, because he grew up playing in the suburb of West Orange but would make weekly forays to play in the Bronx borough of NY where his dad grew up, because he played at mostly-white MKA and then transferred to, what he terms, the “polar opposite,” St. Pat’s. He credits his diverse street-meets-burbs game—what Pyonin calls old school, new school—to playing in those varying environs. What goes unsaid, but certainly not unobserved, is how those same experiences molded him into a universal, cross-cultural pitchman.

The way the tides are pulling—especially once the hand is fully healed—it wouldn’t be surprising if Irving’s biggest corporate partner, Nike, starts featuring the skinny but surprisingly built point guard more in the near future.

“The accolades speak for themselves, but the way he carries himself is just as important,” Nike North America Communications Manager Brian Strong says, adding coyly, “We continue to be enthusiastic about our relationship.”

Having grown up watching his dad maneuver on Wall Street, Irving is schooled beyond his years in business. He knows the deals he currently has, envisions the future deals he wants, and he knows what he wants to do with the fortune and fame.

“This is something that I want to feed my family doing for a long time,” Irving says. “It really makes me happy, seeing my father happy, basically being able to give him anything he wants. He made so many sacrifices for me to get here.”

Like most of what Kyrie says, this statement is honest and open and genuine, which harkens back to why fans adore him and why companies such as Nike are vying to put his face on its product.

“He’s a better person than he is a player,” Jones says. “As long as he stays healthy and humble, he has the personality where he could be the face of the NBA for years to come.”

——

Kyrie and Kobe, Kobe and Kyrie. It all makes perfect sense. One has the makeup to be the next face of the League; one has been the face of the League for the past decade. Inevitable then, when in the same gym together at Team USA’s training camp in Las Vegas, that they’d get into a little something—even if it was quasi-joke turned compelling-theatre.

The most popular version of Irving and Bryant engaging in some harmless trash talk has more than three million views on YouTube. Between that exposure and the relatively slow trickle of news in July, a little post-practice challenge to a game of one-on-one with the winner donating $50,000 charity has turned into one of the largest stories of the NBA offseason.

“That goes back to Kyrie being comfortable with himself,” Strickland says. “Like, you can’t do that if you’re not feeling like you’re up to par.”

“It started as a joke, but then he put money on it,” Irving, who adds that he watched and learned a lot while practicing with the Select Team in Vegas, says. “I wasn’t going to back down. I have the utmost respect for Kobe Bryant. Everyone was saying, ‘Oh, no, you’re going to lose.’ I’m just like, ‘He is one of the greatest players to ever play the game, but I have confidence in my abilities.”

Pyonin laughs a little when he speaks about Kyrie vs Kobe, seriously debates the merits of who would win, then finishes by saying: “That’s his confidence—he’s that good. Biggest thing with him is, get him a little talent around him, he’ll win a Championship.”

Kyrie clearly had a transformative experience practicing with Team USA in Las Vegas and brought new-found notoriety with him back to the East Coast. But Irving’s not worried about taking Kobe in a one-on-one battle, and he’s not nervous about inheriting Bryant’s mantle as one of the faces of the NBA and Nike. Right now, with his hand almost healthy enough for him to return back to action and training camp just one calendar page away, Irving is all about what he did last season and what he wants to do next season.

“I was trying to figure a lot of things out last season, so I didn’t really feel comfortable playing my complete game,” says Irving, who doesn’t turn 21 until next March and will again be the youngest player on the Cavs. “I feel like next season I’m gonna bring a new gear, a new level, that I didn’t really get a chance to show. A year under my belt, and now the game’s just gonna slow down, my third year it’ll slow down, and my fourth it’ll slow down…I think I can become one of the best in the League.”

As one of the world’s biggest Los Angeles Dodger fans, SLAM E-i-C Ben Osborne is always looking for links between his favorite team and the magazine(s) he edits. A couple years ago, connecting with Matt Kemp at an All-Star Weekend party led to a Dime Drop in SLAM. This year, some intel from longtime friend-of-SLAM Chris Mack hipped Ben to the fact that Dodgers rookie shortstop Dee Gordon was a hoops and sneakerhead. Boom! A front-of-the-book KICKS piece was born. Dee’s promising season hasn’t quite panned out due to a struggling bat and a thumb injury that knocked him out of the lineup for two months, but he was activated by the Dodgers on Tuesday and played last night. As fans of the ice-cold Dodgers know, they could use a spark! The KICKS story is below; to see it in print pick up KICKS 15—on newsstands everywhere.—Ed.

Standing a stick-skinny 5-11, and with a three-time MLB All-Star for a father, it’s no shock that baseball’s the sport Dee Gordon plays professionally. But in his heart, the second-year shortstop for the L.A. Dodgers is a different kind of baller. And he’s got the footwear to prove it.

A 20-ppg scorer over his four-year playing career at Avon Park (FL) High, Dee was an Allen Iverson lover who got college basketball looks and always had dope kicks on his feet. “I’d say playing basketball helped make me a sneakerhead,” says Gordon. “There were some pretty great shoes to wear when I was playing. I wore Jordans growing up. I used to go to school in Jordan shorts, tees and kicks. I’m also a big Nike guy.”

Nike’s the brand that makes the cleats Dee wears on the field, when the lightning-quick (30 stolen bases in 38 attempts as of press time despite missing time due to an injured thumb) lead-off hitter sets the table for the Playoff-contending Dodgers. “I’m a high-energy guy, but I don’t mean that in the way they say about basketball players,” Gordon explains. “I’m a guy that plays hard and wants to keep my teammates up all game, but I do that as a starter. In basketball, ‘high-energy guys’ are usually the ones that come off the bench and give their team a spark.”

Dee (@SkinnySwag9) has been quiet on Twitter during the season, but last offseason he was posting pictures of his footwear on a daily basis, using the hashtag #dgkicksoftheday and showing off his Js, Nikes and the occasional Guccis.

Gordon’s father, Tom, aka Flash, pitched in the Majors for 21 years, most prominently with the Royals, Red Sox and Phillies, compiling 138 wins, 158 saves, a World Series title and the aforementioned All-Star appearances. This obviously gave Dee a great role model in athletics. “He was a baseball player, but he knew basketball and he was good at that, too,” Dee recalls. “He really got me playing sports against older and bigger guys, so that when I went back and played with my age, the game was a lot easier.”

Now it’s Dee living the Major League life, which is all good, except for one little rule…

“Dodgers team policy says no sneakers on the road. That kills me!” the 24-year-old laughs. “I try to tell them, people wear Jordans all the time. Those are nice shoes. People don’t believe me, but I’m wearing Jordans when I get married!”

Wednesday night, those of you in the New York City area should hit up the Irondale Center—at 85 South Oxford St. between Fulton St. and Lafayette Ave in Brooklyn—to the see the BK premiere of County of Kings, a stage memoir by the great Lemon Andersen. Hit beatbrooklyn.com/Lemon for tickets, and read our feature on the spoken word artist and renowned sneakerhead from KICKS 15 below. —Ed.

For Lemon Andersen, a major turning point in his life’s story started with Air Jordans. Seriously.

“[The] greatest poem ever was by Reg E. Gaines, called ‘Please Don’t Take My Air Jordans,’” says Lemon, rocking a crispy pair of Chicago boutique Leaders’ x adidas Forums collab. “It was so ill because he rhymed, it was all iambic pentameter and it was the first poem—10 years before Def Poetry—on MTV. No music, just him spitting live. Outside of it rhyming, him being black and being hip to street culture, it was also a real story about a kid getting robbed over ego.”

Andersen was so moved by Gaines’ piece, which aired on MTV’s Unplugged in ’93, that when he later decided to pursue the arts, Lemon sought out the acclaimed poet as a mentor. Under Gaines’ tutelage, Lemon furthered his own writing skills to the point of being cast in Broadway’s version of Def Poetry Jam, for which he won a Tony Award.

Def Poetry is where most people recognize the Brooklyn-born Andersen from. But that’s only a small part of the eternal b-boy’s résumé. Not coincidentally, while earning his credentials—on local and international stages performing his acclaimed, Spike Lee-produced one-man show County Of Kings, teaching at the Stella Adler Studio or helping Nike to sign LeBron James by performing a biographical poem for the reigning NBA Champ—Andersen stays freshly dipped in dope sneakers.

While narrative certainly guides his storytelling, a relentless dedication to freshness (“Easter Sunday every day,” he calls it) inevitably creeps into his work. On stage, his uniform is usually a pair of well-worn Nike Dunks. “I try not to be so flashy because you don’t want to tell the story when you got some bright-ass joints on,” explains Lemon. “The denim Dunks are usually the stage sneakers I wear. They’re not as comfortable to roll around with, but they take it down a little bit. Your storytelling is everything, not necessarily the wardrobe.”

Nike is key to some of Lemon’s recent endeavors, but believe it or not, it wasn’t always so. “I probably [had] a pair of Ponys early, real early. I think I had a pair of Nikes, I had the Cortezes before they became big,” he recalls. “It was the last of the triple threat, you had adidas on top, Pumas and then Nike was last. I was able to afford Nike, so I had Nike when everyone was rocking Puma and adidas. I had Pony up from b-boy culture.”

After running the streets and train tracks of BK as a kid, Andersen did a few jail bids for drug dealing charges in his late teens. Hustling words instead of drugs stopped him from becoming another talented kid to never make it out of the hood. The gregarious rhymer of Puerto Rican heritage must have surely been focused on his craft since it hampered his sneaker game. Artists don’t make much paper in the beginning, if ever, making it tough to afford pricey kicks.

“I started doing theater, poetry, which wasn’t part of street culture,” he says. “In order to make a living, I had to stop hustling and do things that couldn’t afford me to keep up with Js.”

But by the time Def Poetry Jam was poppin’, he was back in the groove. He admits he started getting blessed with free kicks but still plucks down cash when need be. But even that comes with its own trepidations.

“You don’t want to be on a train with a pair of Yeezys,” rationalizes Andersen. “Even though I live deep in Bushwick, I walk like I own the street, I still have that. But it doesn’t fit the bill to be on the train with a pair of $2,000 sneakers you actually paid $2,000 for. I ain’t have the Yeezy hook up. I just ran into a good wardrobe budget.”

Lemon doesn’t always stunt for the sake of stuntin’. He ended up giving those aforementioned Yeezys away in ’09. A trip back to Rikers under far different circumstances than his initial visits reiterated that there is a time and place for displaying sneaker dominance.

“I taught at Rikers Island and wore the first Spizikes, and I played myself,” recalls Lemon. “It’s not fair; they’re poor, young people who are struggling. Most of them are there because they want a pair of
Jordans, and here I am rocking the first Spizikes, the Italian joints. They didn’t hear anything I said. They were too busy looking at my joints.”

He adds, “You live and learn. I’ll never do that to kids again, especially those kids.”

There are, however, certain situations when a sick pair of kicks may fit the bill. “Sometimes when I do colleges, yeah I fucking try to break ’em,” admits Lemon, devilishly. “I try to let the young cats know I keep it fresh. Because you’re a poet and not a rapper, they might take you more serious because you got a pair of Js on. Instead of being the other poet who’s wearing a pair of moccasins he found hoboing the country.”

Lemon’s play, ToasT, was one of eight projects chosen out of 900 for the 2012 Sundance Institute Theatre Lab in Park City, UT, where he will continue to develop the project. Getting such details out of Lemon, like the Russell Simmons/Stan Lathan-produced documentary, Lemon, of which he’s the subject, are tough because he’d rather set up the complete picture than pinpoint his own accolades. Ironic, considering he usually can’t help being the focus on stage. It’s a duality he deals with constantly, right down to his feet, which will stay properly outfitted no matter what.

“I try to keep stuff that you can kind of keep it low key, but still be fresh, ’cause I’ll feel uncomfortable if I’m not fresh,” he explains. “I came up like that, at least my feet gear. I’m part of this culture. It’s hard to let go. How do I let go of kicks? How do I do that? I’m in my 30s, and I can’t let it go.”

The words come from Rob Purvy, Brand President of AND 1. They’re spoken moments after The Star Spangled Banner is sung, moments before the Philadelphia Mans Basketball League’s AND 1 Season Three All-Star Game begins. And, yeah, he’s right: This event, this day, this moment is, truly, grassroots.

We’re in the Palestra, the University of Pennsylvania’s historic arena in the heart of Philadelphia, where once upon a time UPenn, Temple, St. Joe’s, Villanova and La Salle battled yearly for coveted Big Five bragging rights. At the moment, it’s early evening during one of those mid-summer Fridays with a temperature that cracks triple-digits and a humidity you could swim through. But despite the sweaty, shirt-stuck-to-your-back conditions, nobody seems in the least bit upset to be here.

On tap is a three-point contest, dunk contest and exhibition game, all put together to celebrate the best players from one of the best new recreational leagues in the United States. Seriously: As far as rec leagues go, the PMBL is no joke. Before each season, there’s a three-week tryout, during which team “owners” scout the participants, and then a draft, where those owners make trades and maneuver the way NBA GMs do each June. (Think rec-league, real-life fantasy basketball.) Stats are kept and uploaded onto the league’s website, along with photos and thousand-word recaps of weekly PMBL happenings.

Most impressive, though, is what takes place on the court. The first couple of rounds of each pre-season draft are filled with pro-level talent, including guys who’ve played (or are currently playing) abroad, along with former DI and II hoopers who now hold down day jobs and tear up unsuspecting opponents in Philly gyms during nights and weekends. The most noteworthy participant during the current season is 29-year-old Matt Walsh, a 6-6 forward who starred at Germantown Academy and the University of Florida, and later saw minutes during a pair of regular season games for the Miami Heat before heading overseas.

Today at the Palestra, with the AND 1 sponsors in the building, everyone—clad, as you’d expect, in AND 1 kicks and AND 1-designed jerseys and shorts—is showing out. The three-point contest is won by UPenn alum Aron Cohen, who seals it with a clutch corner trey; the dunk contest is dominated by Lateef Parks, a former Philadelphia Public player and PMBL newcomer who throws down a 360, off-the-bounce slam that brings the 200-or-so-person audience to its feet. The actual game is a tight one, broken open when the squad featuring league commissioner Jake Kind pulls away with a few minutes remaining.

Everything about the event—from the dozens of Big Five alum in the house to the historic location to the decidedly down-to-earth feel of the entire event and those involved—screams Philly, which is why the attachment of the sneaker company sponsor feels like such a perfect fit. Almost 20 years ago, on the very campus the Palestra sits on, three graduate students formed a company called AND 1, a brand that over the ensuing decade grew to represent the mindset of true ballers across the world. AND 1 flourished in the late ’90s and into the early ’00s, when its streetball style popped into mainstream culture and circulated the globe, and later, a TV show chronicling a national tour that boasted entertainers who defied gravity and could handle the rock unlike anyone in the sport’s history. Legends were made in the process, ensuring that names like Skip To My Lou and Hot Sauce would ring out on playgrounds across the planet forevermore.

In the years after the Mixtape Tour ended, the brand suffered a drop-off in popularity, only to begin a bounce back in the late aughts: first, in ’09, the company re-released the AND 1 Tai Chi, the sneaker Vince Carter wore while obliterating the competition during the ’00 Dunk Contest, and then AND 1 sponsored a few NBAers and continued serving true hoopheads through grassroots initiatives.

Though fans in the States would have to be tuned in to YouTube to know, the Mixtape Tour was rebooted in ’10, ran officially by a group named AND 1 Live that’s taken the show all over the planet. “We go to countries that people wouldn’t believe we were in,” says AND 1 Live CEO Linda Hill, who’s brought the tour through Asia, Europe, Africa and South America. “It has been very successful. It’s not only about basketball. We make sure we leave a mark about education. A lot of these countries are deteriorating; unfortunately, they don’t have a great educational system. So we try to inspire them.”

Purvy, aware of the influence the tour once had on the game’s culture, hopes to help reinvigorate it in the States. “Without [the Mixtape Tour], there would be no AND 1,” he says. “The Mixtape Tour, I think from looking at it with a macro view, is on par with what people think of when they think of the NBA. So that’s something that I have been very delicate, very strategic and very passionate about bringing back.”

The brand’s expansion will push forward on a variety of levels. This summer, AND 1 is sponsoring the Los Angeles Summer Pro League, which should help grow the brand in Cali, where the company is headquartered. And AND 1 is still making its mark on the City of Brotherly Love in multiple ways—it’ll soon be sponsoring Simon Gratz, the Philly high school once attended by Rasheed Wallace and streetballer Aaron Owens (aka AO), and it’ll do the same at Prep Charter, the alma mater of NBA twins Marcus and Markieff Morris.

It’d only be right, then, to get the Morris brothers laced in the brand’s gear as well. This upcoming season, the two will be wearing—in respective Suns and Rockets colorways—a variety of different AND 1 models: the Orbit ($85), Guardian ($110), Entourage ($100) and Backlash Low ($70). All four kicks hit stores on February 1, 2013.

Given their roots, bringing the two to AND 1 was an easy call. “The first thing that got me about the Morris twins is when I saw the Draft and I saw two guys—who if you don’t know them well, you can’t tell them apart—getting drafted right next to each other in the Lottery,” says Purvy, a Philadelphia native himself. “Back-to-back championships when they were at Prep Charter, state championships—that’s never happened before. Tying that into the brand message we are telling, I think it would be an injustice if they were not with us.”

“It was something that we wanted to be a part of,” says Markieff, who spoke to KICKS just before heading out to Las Vegas for summer league back in July. “[The company’s Philadelphia roots] definitely had a big part in the decision. It started in the city, so we might as well keep it in the city.”

The twins flashed promise during their rookie years—Markieff put up 7.4 points and 4.4 rebounds per as a role player for the Suns, while Marcus, stuck on the outside of the Rockets’ frontcourt rotation, spent some time in the D-League, where he scored 20.7 points a game during 11 total tilts.

Naturally, the NBA’s a solid place for a basketball brand to build its rep. But here’s another, less expected spot: the island of Jamaica, where AND 1 sponsored a camp run by the PMBL folks this summer. Held as KICKS went to press, the camp bussed 160 kids to a site where they received AND 1 tees, jerseys, shorts, sneaker and water bottles, and then will learn a sport with a growing, if not fully established, presence in the Caribbean. The camp is the brainchild of Jake Kind, who’s truthful about how the idea originated: “Honestly, I was looking for a thing to do while my fiancée was away with her family that week,” he says. But Kind learned about a Jamaican man named Jason Henzell, who had recently opened a sprawling sporting facility on the island. With the resources at hand—along with the AND 1 gear, Kind brought down 15-20 coaches he’s met through the PMBL—he pitched a basketball camp for the very week he was free, and the idea was accepted.

“What it really turned into is providing kids a new opportunity in a place where the only distractions they’ve had in terms of sport are cricket, running, tennis and soccer,” Kind says. “Those are good sports, but they’re nothing compared to basketball, in my opinion. We’re trying to show them the ropes in terms of what ‘great’ looks like in basketball.”

Back in Philly, the PMBL All-Star Game ends, and players file out with the friends and fam who showed up to support them. Many of the guys make plans to hang with each other the next day—Kind’s dad, who was also one of the dunk contest’s judges earlier in the night, is throwing a barbecue, and all are invited—while Purvy stands nearby, telling a writer about AND 1’s plans for the summer and beyond.

The company will be sponsoring leagues, players and camps at all skill levels throughout the country and world during the next few months, but there’s still something to be said for showing a sincere interest in the average gym rat, the players—like those who hoop in the PMBL, amongst countless other rec leagues throughout the States—who spend every minute they can hitting a gym or playground with hopes of getting even a little better.

Danny Green: I’m from North Babylon in Long Island, New York. Suffolk County. That’s where I was raised. I lived with my mother and father until I was 11 or 12—my mother had left when I was around that age, so my father raised me most of the time. But it’s a small town, not much going on, not many people make it out of there.

SLAM: How’d you initially get into basketball?

DG: From my father, he put the ball in my hands when I was like 2. I started playing organized ball when I was like 5. [North Babylon] is a small town, and in order for me to get recognition, I couldn’t stay there. I had to play AAU and I had to play throughout all different cities, all different boroughs. And throughout the years, playing with the city kids, I got more respect each year I’d come back, better each summer.

SLAM: So your dad taught you the game?

DG: Definitely. We had a court in the driveway, and that’s how I learned. That’s where it all started at: in the backyard, in the driveway, and of course local gyms. And he was a coach, so he coached me. In the town we had our own little league, and I played in those leagues, and as I got older I played in other leagues and other AAU teams.

SLAM: Was pops a tough coach?

DG: Yeah, he was. Usually fathers are harder on their sons than other people would be, but it made us grow faster—me and my brothers. And my brothers pushed me, too.

SLAM: Were you guys competitive with one another?

DG: It wasn’t friendly. Me and my brother are 10 months apart, so we grew up pretty close. Every day we played in the backyard, and he always wanted to beat me. We got into a lot of fights. We don’t play one-on-one that much now, but [back in the day] he always wanted to beat me and I would never let him beat me.

SLAM: What was your favorite team in those days?

DG: I used to like the Bulls growing up. I’m a big Michael Jordan fan, and he’s a good person to follow and watch—he’s probably the greatest that’s ever played.

SLAM: MJ was the guy who you tried to model your game after?

DG: He was one of them. A lot of other guys, though—I tried to take moves from everybody. Allen Iverson, Stephon Marbury. You know Allen had the commercial with his crossover. Even Kobe. A bunch of different guys growing up. Jason Williams, from Sacramento, he was one of my favorites, too. The way he used to pass!

SLAM: Was there a specific place in your hometown that was always really important to you?

DG: There was a school that everybody would play at all the time, at nights and during the day. It was packed. They had a lot of pick-up games there. Kids don’t do it anymore, but we had a lot of battles there. Peter J. Brennan, that’s what it’s called. It’s one of the main schools in North Babylon on my side of town, and then of course there was Belmont Park—a lot of kids would play at Belmont Park. And over by Babylon Station there was another court over there. But Peter J. Brennan was the main one I remember—we had a lot of battles there.

SLAM: Why’d you go to UNC?

DG: Just the history and the tradition. I was always a Carolina fan when I was growing up. Michael Jordan went there. Once they started recruiting me it was [an easy decision] for me.

SLAM: You came off the bench at UNC for a few years as a do-everything guy. Did that help round out your game?

DG: Definitely, definitely. But that was always my game as a kid. I was never a one-dimensional guy; I was always able to block shots, play defense, get rebounds, or drive, or pass. My father made me grow up that way. He taught me to work on different things in my game and wanted me to be more than a one-dimensional player.

SLAM: While you were at UNC your father was in prison for 18 months. How tough was handling everything that was going on at home while still maintaining a steady life in college?

DG: It was very tough. It came to a point where I wanted to transfer. I wanted to get back home. I wasn’t playing as much, things off the court weren’t going well, and it wasn’t easy. But I stuck it out—my coaches, my teammates, they helped me stick it out. And I stayed there, and things turned out well for me.

SLAM: How close were you to transferring?

DG: Very close. Very, very close. As close as you can get without signing the papers. It was pretty much my decision, but everybody else wanted me to come back home. I was like, I’m gonna stay. But I was very close to leaving.

SLAM: Did it affect your play on the court?

DG: I wasn’t playing as much. That’s when everybody came—Ty [Lawson], Wayne [Ellington], Brandan Wright, all those guys came in—and we had all the seniors, too. So I wasn’t playing as much and I wasn’t playing as well, but it was motivation for the next year to come back and take somebody’s spot, which I didn’t—I was sixth man my junior year. But I came back with a different mentality, so that made me hungrier and more mentally tough.

SLAM: When the Cavs drafted you in the second round, was it a relief, or was it just, ‘I still have a long ways to go…’?

DG: Still had a lot more to go. Especially being second rough, it’s never a guarantee, you never know what’s gonna happen. The second rough is only the beginning.

SLAM: You were only in Cleveland for the one year, but was it a valuable experience?

DG: Definitely, I learned a lot. The guys I learned from on the team, I had some of the greatest in the world. Shaquille O’Neal and LeBron James, and Mo Williams and Antawn Jamison and Anderson Varejao. Every one of them I learned something from. It was a great group of guys, very animated. I had a lot of fun.

SLAM: When they released you, was there ever a feeling like the whole NBA thing just wasn’t going to work?

DG: There were definitely doubts. Once I was released, there weren’t many phone calls. The Spurs called me for a workout, and I went for a week, and then I didn’t know what was going to happen. It just didn’t look good. I was going to go overseas because the lockout was coming—nobody knew, or I didn’t know at least—so there were so many doubts. I just kept at it. My family did a great job supporting me and keeping me on track to achieving my goals.

SLAM: When you spent some time in the D-League, was there anything that really humbled you and made you realize how different it was from the NBA?

DG: Yeah, all of it. Alllll of it. The way you traveled, the way of living, it was all different. It was nowhere near NBA level, any of it. NBA level is first-class everything; D-League is…[laughs]. It was a good experience but not something you’d want to experience again.

SLAM: After the lockout, you’re signed with the Spurs for the ‘11-12 season, and then pretty quickly you’re starting, and the next thing you know you’re playing a huge role in the Playoffs. This must’ve all hit you pretty hard.

DG: [Laughs] It was tough. Everything happened so fast, like you said. Manu got hurt, then the next thing you know it was, ‘Oh, they’re looking for somebody to step up.’ And then they threw me in there, I got lucky, and the next thing you know I worked my way up from five minutes, to 10, to 13, to sometimes I’m playing at the end of the game. And I started to gain trust from Pop. Then the next thing you know I’m starting in the Western Conference Finals. It was just a lot happening faster than I expected. I enjoyed it. I had fun.

SLAM: Is there a moment that sticks out for you, where you looked around and thought, ‘Wow, I cannot believe this is happening?’

DG: All of it. Even the season, then the Playoffs, when we won the first round, and then the second round especially, when we beat the Clippers and I’m in the lineup at the end of the game. It was very surreal.

DG: He’s very tough, but he’s tough on everybody. I’d say me and Popovich have a great relationship. I’m pretty straightforward with everybody, and I like playing for him. He’s a very good coach, and he knows what he’s doing. He’s also one of the funniest coaches I’ve ever played for. He’s also very disciplined, and he knows what he wants. He tells you exactly what he wants you to do, and he gives you a lot of freedom.

DG: Yeah, he’s very sarcastic. It’s very funny to me. I always have a great time laughing with him or at him. That’s Pop. But at the same time he’s very strict and disciplined. He lets you have freedom as long as you play defense and do all the little things that you have to do.

For sports apparel giant Under Armour, the decision to enter basketball footwear half a decade ago may have seemed futile at first, but the team at UA has been creative and embraced the challenge of building from the ground up. By combining innovative technology and savvy marketing, Under Armour is well on its way to becoming a footwear force.

As a company and brand, Under Armour, which was founded in 1996, enjoyed near-immediate success in outfitting athletes in sports with its moisture-wicking technology and cool, aggressive look. To many observers, a dive into basketball footwear—where established brands already had a headlock on the game—didn’t seem like a necessary move to make. Instead of avoiding that lane, though, the brain trust at UA felt confident that they could compete in hoops and help basketball players better themselves through their sneakers. “In order to be a full athletic brand, you have to be in footwear,” says Mike Parker, Brand Marketing Director of Basketball at UA. “Under Armour’s goal is to be a global athletic brand, and basketball is one of the few global sports. It was a natural fit for us because what we were able to do in apparel is provide innovation and an advantage to the athlete. We know that we can bring that same kind of innovation and improvement of the athlete into the footwear category and specifically into basketball.”

Just because they decided to do sneakers, though, didn’t mean UA was going to follow anyone else’s script. When they made their plunge into basketball footwear in ’08, instead of signing an already established NBA star to be their lead spokesperson, Under Armour went left and inked the oft-criticized, college-skipping, ultra-flashy and undeniably talented Brandon Jennings while he was an 18-year-old on his way to play in Italy. The electric southpaw, who arguably deserved an All-Star reserve spot last year in his third season for the Milwaukee Bucks, has always prided himself on doing things differently, making the partnership with UA a match made in heaven. “I was attracted to Under Armour because they were a different brand, unique,” recalls Jennings. “It was something new, and I could relate to their vision.”

Adds Parker, “It takes a certain kind of personality to go against the norm. When you think about basketball, there are certain brands that people naturally gravitate toward because it’s the easy thing to do. Doing something different—and not just for the sake of doing something different, but to be better—that’s what Under Armour offered Brandon.”

Since signing with UA, Jennings has released two signature shoes, the Micro G Black Ice and the Micro G Bloodlines. Both sneakers have Young Money’s’ fingerprints all over them, and his input is valued by the company—so much so that he was brought on as an intern during last summer’s NBA lockout. “I’m very hands on with the apparel and sneakers,” says Jennings. “Everything that they do comes back to me, and if I don’t like something, I tell them that I don’t like it.”

Jennings was the first, and for a while, only player rep for Under Armour. But over the past three years, UA’s NBA roster has grown to five, partnering with Kemba Walker, Derrick Williams, DeAndre Jordan and Greivis Vasquez. While these names might read random, the four were not chosen arbitrarily. Each and every one of them saw something special in Under Armour, and Under Armour saw something unqiue and special in them as well. Something that could help a burgeoning brand—at least when it comes to sneakers—become a household name.

A native of The Bronx, the 22-year-old Walker provides Under Armour with a great opportunity. Not only does Kemba call the East Coast basketball hub home, but in the Spring of ’11, the 5-11 Walker led his UConn Huskies to 12 straight wins and Big East and NCAA titles.

Walker surely had a slew of endorsements at his disposal after that magical spring, but he feels right at home with the burgeoning brand, who inked him shortly after the Charlotte Bobcats made him the ninth pick in the ’11 Draft. “It’s been nothing but the best with these guys; it’s just a great environment. They work hard and they want to be the best, just like me,” says Walker. “These guys work very hard to put us out there, get us on billboards, put us in commercials. These guys are really different. If I were talking to a young guy, I’d just let him know that.”

Minnesota Timberwolves forward Derrick Williams may represent Under Armour’s blue collar work ethic better than anyone. Williams’ journey has taken him from unheralded college recruit to Pac-10 POY to No. 2 pick in the ’11 NBA Draft and now a sneaker deal. With that type of topsy-turvy journey, Williams serves as an inspiration to every kid who has ever been doubted. “A lot of people said I couldn’t make the NBA, a lot of people said I might not even get a Division I scholarship. It was a lot of hard work and I have achieved a lot. It really added more fuel to the fire,” says Williams, who participated in this past year’s Dunk Contest. “I always thought I was gonna be pretty good, I had to just put in the work. I never doubted myself or my talent.”

Whereas Williams may have risen from obscurity to a top Draft pick, DeAndre Jordan has had a humbling journey since being one of the most sought-after recruits in the country back in ’07. After a mediocre freshman season at Texas A&M, Jordan declared for the ’08 Draft, then slipped into the second round. Since then, the L.A. Clippers starting center has refocused, worked on the nuances of his game and shown flashes of brilliance. Jordan may not put up huge numbers (yet), but he does all the dirty work for Lob City, and that’s exactly what UA looks for in its players. “He does all the things that help make the team overall successful and makes the sacrifice that he has to for the betterment of the team, and that all plays into who we are as a brand,” says Parker.

Vasquez, a graduate of the University of Maryland, No. 28 overall Draft pick in ’10 and member of the New Orleans Hornets, gives Under Armour an opportunity to build in the relatively untapped South American market. The guard, who is from baseball-crazy Venezuela, can help take the brand international with his hungry, relentless style of play. “We haven’t even scratched the surface internationally with Greivis yet,” says Parker. “He is The Guy down there from a basketball standpoint. We need to really focus on that and the impact that he can have on the Latin community.”

Despite clearly being proud of partnering with these five rising NBA talents, Under Armour is well aware that it’s at the grassroots level where they have truly staked their claim in basketball. The brand currently sponsors 22 top AAU teams, 40 high school programs and 20 colleges, allowing them to slowly but surely build a rapport with the next generation. “The foundation for Under Armour is really built on grassroots,” explains Parker. “Our grassroots team has done a great job aligning with the right AAU and high school programs, which gives our grassroots players a platform and a place to showcase their talents and really experience the brand. [Grassroots] has been a way of life for the Under Armour brand. We have taken that formula and applied that in basketball and made it relevant, talking to that future generation and that kid that’s ‘next,’ because we are that brand that is ‘next.’”

With such an emphasis on grassroots, it’s fitting that Under Armour and its representatives are constantly in the community, giving back to the people who helped them get to where they are today, such as last fall’s lockout-induced “Are You From Here?” tour of the East Coast that had UA stars playing in bandbox high school gyms with young fans just an arm’s length away. “That’s why I call myself the ‘Hood Favorite,’” says Jennings. “I’m always doing stuff in the community and for the kids.”

Adds Williams, “Next season we’re going to sponsor the high school (La Mirada High in CA) I went to. Little things like that really make the brand look good, as well as myself giving back to the community that I came from and the people that helped me.”

The aforementioned tour was one of the better moments of the lockout, and “Are You From Here?” has become a calling cry for the brand in its advertising and all-around messaging. “That ‘Here’ message doesn’t go away, it just evolves,” explains Parker. “Where ‘Here’ was a philosophy and a mentality for basketball and training for athletes last year, this year ‘Here’ is, We still want to work hard, and now we’re going to provide the equipment that’s going to make you better going forward with your journey.”

Since entering the world of basketball, Under Armour has grown leaps and bounds toward becoming one of the top brands for ballers at every level. While they still have a lot of work to do, the future is bright and with the current combination of players and staff working tirelessly to be the best, it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the world catches on. “I think we got the potential [to be one of the top sneaker brands],” adds Jennings. “Our owner is probably one of the hungriest guys I’ve met besides Kobe. I think we’re going to get some great pieces and we’re going to be fine.”

“I think the generation before me was all Jordan and Nike guys,” says Williams. “But I think the generation we’re in now, a lot of people are saying it’s not the shoes that the people are buying but the player, and I believe in that. I think if you give us a few years, we can be really relevant out there, especially on the NBA court.”

The idea of having fresh-faced ballers represent a brand isn’t groundbreaking, but the way the idea is being executed by Under Armour is slowly but surely turning heads and causing people to take notice.

Just off the official program for the since-rebranded 2003 Jordan Capital Classic, flip through the player bios and you’ll find Chris Paul’s name. There, just below his vital statistics and a smiling headshot, sits a short paragraph that begins with a list of his high school accomplishments and ends with a sobering assessment of his game: “He is a solid penetrator and decision maker while on the floor.”

Nearly a decade later, it’s safe to say CP3 is a smidge better than “solid.” So when he takes a breather from prepping for the 2012 Olympics and settles into his assigned seat next to Jordan Brand teammate Carmelo Anthony on a drizzly Saturday afternoon in Northwest DC to field questions from some local fans, Paul smiles.

The All-Star point guard has fond memories of the ’03 JBC. Paul led his team to a victory (despite co-MVP LeBron James’ 34-point show) and scored 18 points to go with 5 dimes. More importantly, though, it was there the North Carolina native had his first face-to-face meeting with Michael Jordan—the man whose instantly recognizable logo now sits near CP3’s own on each of his half-dozen signature sneakers.

Then a diminutive Wake Forest commit out of West Forsyth (NC) High, Paul admits to being awestruck in the presence of the player he spent years mimicking in his backyard as a kid. From his perch in front of a tightly packed crowd at the local sneaker spot, CP points out a kid in the crowd, and asks him his age—the boy is no more than 12 years old.

“See,” Paul starts, “that’s why there will never be another Michael Jordan, because kids that have never seen him play still know he’s the greatest.”

CP3’s undying respect for the greatest that ever did it makes him appreciative of every mention, of every appearance and sneaker release under the Jordan name. And, whether born from their first encounter or grown organically, Paul’s attitude on the court so closely mirrors Mike’s that his affiliation with Jumpman seems a natural fit.

“Some people like to win,” Paul tells the audience, matter of factly. “I feel like I have to win.”

Sound familiar?

True to form, after enduring a lockout and a famously nixed trade to the Lakers, CP3 landed in Clipper red, white and blue for the start of the ’11-12 season, where he immediately made winning the top priority for a franchise with a history of being the laughable loser. Paul quarterbacked the Clips to a 40-26 regular-season record (the best winning percentage in team history) and a first-round Playoff upset of the Memphis Grizzlies, earning First-Team All-NBA and First-Team All-Defense honors along the way.

The Clipper captain’s 19.8 points, 9.1 assists and League-best 2.5 steals per game had him in the MVP race for much of the year, and with good reason. Paul finished ’11-12 with the NBA’s highest number in Offensive Win Shares at 10.4 (just ahead of LeBron’s 10.0), an advanced statistic that essentially measures how many wins a single player accounts for via his offensive production alone. The next point guard on the list was Ty Lawson, at just 5.7.

Paul’s first season in Los Angeles was a boon for his shoe brand, too. The CP3.V was released to rave reviews, as the slimmed-down, speedier sneak got more retail attention than any of his four previous signatures. Given its success, Paul will have his first-ever fall release this year, as Jordan sped up production for the CP3.VI to catch up with its namesake’s skyrocketing popularity.

Like its previous incarnation, the inspiration behind the CP3.VI is as simple as two words—fast and aggressive.

“Those are the words that come up almost every time we meet,” says Tom Luedecke, lead designer for the CP3.VI, of Paul’s input. “How can we make it sleeker, how can we make it faster looking or can we change the stance to get faster. And then how can we make it look a little more aggressive. Those are the things that, interestingly enough, are exactly what he’s talking about when he’s talking about his game and his style of play.”

Working with the framework of the CP3.V’s low-cut silhouette and Jordan’s two-foam Podulon-engineered cushioning technology—which, according to Luedecke, Paul has been an advocate of since its inception—the VI hopes to increase speed by taking cues from outside the basketball realm.

Says Luedecke, “We did a full gait analysis, almost like a running shoe, what you would do with a runner. He’s one of the guys that leads the League in steals, so that translates into sprinting down the court for 2 points.”

What the Jordan designers discovered from examining video was Paul’s increased activity in the forefoot of the shoe rather than the heel. When CP3 breaks down a defender with a killer crossover, he typically lands on the inside of his heel, before quickly transferring weight to the lateral forefoot. With that in mind, the CP3.VI accounts for a smooth transition from heel to forefoot, with deep flex grooves under the toes that allow a player like Paul to stick the landing.

The result is a more responsive catalyst for one of the game’s most deadly penetrators. “We saw on slo-mo video that he literally stays engaged on the floor—if the shoe allows it—until he’s on the very tip of his toes when he’s pushing off. That’s something that’s very unique,” describes Luedecke. “We slow our research down, we slow our footage down, to enable him to be faster.”

Not everything having to do with the shoe is new age, though. Being that Paul is such a historian of the sneaker game—trust us, he is—inspiration for the sixth installment of the CP3 line came from his favorites of the past and present. First, Paul fingered innovations from the Jordan Super.Fly, praising its breathability, ventilation and comfort. Then, what started as a casual conversation between Luedecke and Paul ended with a big nod to a classic Jordan.

“I said, What’s your favorite J of all time?” remembers Luedecke. “And he said, ‘The XIII, I love the XIII. I might love it the most because that’s the one that got stolen.’”

“He was like, ‘Yeah, in high school, I got the XIIIs and that was a big deal for me. It’s a premium product. But then it got stolen.’ That’s something unique to his person and his personality, that there’s a love for that OG XIII. We took a little of that—a little wink and a flavor.”

Adding subtle personal elements to his kicks is nothing new for Paul. The CP3.V featured 61 triangular panels to honor the passing of his grandfather at that age, plus the dates of his son’s birthday and his wedding. The tip of each shoelace of the V had his hometown area code, North Carolina’s “336,” printed on it. He joked at the time of its launch in January that perhaps his next shoe would feature L.A.’s “310” instead.

Ask, and you shall receive. The laces for the CP3.VI were updated to include both 336 and 310—one for each end of the string. And, look closely at the bottom plates of each sole to find a map of the area surrounding his high school, and another of the Staples Center—one for each foot. The L.A. influence on Paul’s latest sneaker is clear, as is the continued homage to his homestead.

“It’s the connection between one foot that stands in the past,” Luedecke says, “and all the hard work that got him to where he is, and one foot in the future, where they’re hopefully going deeper into the Playoffs this year than last, as they continue to grow as a team.”

Paul, too, is looking forward to the CP3.VI, and taking on the rest of the West with a season under his belt running the Clip Show. “It’s going to be a great shoe. It’s going to have a few personal touches as I always do with my shoes. We’re going to bring a lot of energy with this shoe this year, with it being my first full year in L.A.,” Paul says. “There will be some L.A. love in my shoe, too, since that’s my new home.”

His new home is one that shares his fixation with fast, fancy cars—yet another tiny nugget that Luedecke and Co. took into account in constructing the VI. Such attention to detail throughout the CP3 line should come as no surprise, though, considering Paul’s long-standing and deep appreciation for Jordan Brand products. Near the end of his time chatting with fans in DC, he recalls working menial jobs as a freshman and sophomore in high school, hoping to save up enough money for a pair of Jordans—not only because he admired the sneakers themselves, but to protect his rep, too.

“When you go to the park and match up, the dude that’s got the Js is usually nice,” Paul suggests.

The significance of going to the park these days and spotting kids rocking a signature Chris Paul sneaker is not lost on the 27-year-old. When practicing with Team USA in Las Vegas, Paul got a special shipment from his parent brand—20 boxes of special-edition CP3 kicks in Olympic colorways. Even after seven years in the L, he reacted like a social-media crazed teenager, snapping photos to share with friends and Twitter followers. Paul vows never to take his place in the Jordan family for granted, no matter how long he’s been with the brand.

“It’s something you never get used to,” CP3 says. “Never get used to it. A very humbling experience and something I’ll always be grateful for.”

If the CP3.VI helps make the All-World point god even a hair better, Clipper fans will have plenty to be grateful for. Luedecke, not surprisingly, thinks it will.

“Weight is lower, transition is smoother and I think we even got more stable with the shoe,” the designer says. “I think from feedback, it’s one of the best-tested shoes that I’ve worked on for Jordan. We’ve gotten tremendous feedback on the final product from guys who have been testing shoes for us for 10 years. They’re saying, ‘Hey, this is the best shoe I’ve worn.’ That’s always good to hear.”

On a rainy Portland morning, as the NBA Conference Finals are winding down, Ricky Rubio limps up a concrete stairway on the adidas campus following a controlled workout. Rubio had ACL surgery just weeks ago, and he’s in the early stages of rehab, on his way back to where he left off for the Minnesota Timberwolves pre-injury, as arguably the most exciting rookie in the NBA. Rubio has worn Nikes his entire career, at least up until today, when he is officially joining the team at adidas.

“My Nike contract was finished last season,” Ricky, who averaged 10.6 ppg and 8.2 apg as a first-year NBA PG, explains, “and we were talking about re-signing, but they weren’t that interested, as much as other brands like adidas. Making my own shoe over here is a big deal.”

Before the ink on the new contract could dry, the team at adidas invited Ricky to Portland for a day of what they call brand orientation. “We do this for a couple of reasons,” says Chris Grancio, head of Global Basketball Sports Marketing for adidas. “The first is selfish, because we want to make sure our partners know who we are, what we expect of them and how they can help support our business. But the other is that they have great insights. They’re just a step past being our target consumer. They’re all, in some cases, one or two years outside of that 14-19-year-old kid, the consumer we’re going for. They’re sneaker geeks, they’re basketball fanatics, they’re people who embrace the game, talk about the game, are into social media. We learn so much from them, spending time in an environment where they can interact with our product and give us direct feedback.”

You often hear athletes talk about the business side of being an athlete with worldwide fame, but you don’t always see what goes into making those relationships work. Well, we did: KICKS spent an entire day with Ricky Rubio as he went through his brand orientation at adidas. Sure, there are a lot of shoes and gear thrown around, but it’s as much boardroom as basketball court, where instead of phrases like “pick and roll” and “help defense,” the operative terms are things like “partnership,” “marketing,” “activation” and “stories.”

The morning begins in the adidas conference center. As we enter the building, the flatscreen TVs that usually serve as directories have all been reprogrammed to read RICKY RUBIO IS ALL IN, a nod to adidas’ current ad campaign. As we wander through the buildings, everyone who crosses our path gawks at the tall, thin 21-year-old rocking three stripes from head-to-toe: adidas running shoes, track pants, a t-shirt and a snap-back hat with an impressively flat bill. (As we stroll past one desk, a woman asks her co-worker, “When did we sign the skateboarder?”)

We eventually reach the adidas basketball showroom, which is full of various employees. Ricky plops down on a couch in front of the room, elevates his left knee, pulls up his pant leg and idly picks at the scar. A physical therapist from the TWolves traveling with Ricky hooks him up with some ice, something he does throughout the day to help with swelling and promote healing. A few mannequins in the front of the room model Rubio TWolves jerseys, and a wall up front showcases dozens of different adidas shoes, from performance kicks to Originals.

The day begins with Grancio running through a PowerPoint presentation. Grancio, who looks like wrestler The Big Show but speaks like the Harvard grad that he is, begins with the “brand architecture,” hitting basic points about how they want this partnership to play out. The presentation closes out with Grancio discussing several of their other brand partners, the level of whom would seem to indicate Rubio is in capable hands: Lionel Messi, Derrick Rose, Real Madrid, FIFA and the NBA.

Grancio is followed by Robbie Fuller and Travis Blasingame, who present a footwear and apparel overview. They begin by talking about things like “base layers” and “transition gear,” and they ask Ricky specific questions about his uniform and his shoes. Blasingame, the Global Director of Basketball Apparel, breaks out several pieces of gear they’re working on that are so far from hitting the market that I’m sworn to secrecy before I’m even allowed to look at them. Fuller, the adidas Global Designer for Advanced Concepts, is the man who designed the adizero Crazy Light 1 and 2, as well as Rose 1 through 2.5. He shows Ricky some experimental designs that are being developed, and then they talk through exactly what Ricky’s looking for in a shoe. Ricky notes that his big toes often take a beating, and Fuller writes this down in a notebook. They talk about potential colorways for the Crazy Light 2, the shoe Ricky will wear next season, as well as little personal touches they could add to his kicks. Their presentation ends with them giving Ricky a few minutes to design a custom pair on miadidas.com.

After a break, Ricky hears from adidas Originals, and then the head of adidas sports marketing in Spain, freshly arrived in the States, takes the podium. He cues up a video of several of adidas’ Spanish stars, like Xabi Alonso and Iker Casillas, welcoming Ricky to adidas. The video ends with Vicente Del Bosque, coach of the Spanish national soccer team, holding up a Spain soccer jersey with RICKY 9 on the back; then the actual jersey is handed to Ricky and he beams with delight. We pause for lunch, then return to the conference room for a brand activation presentation, in which members of the marketing and PR teams discuss everything from possible social media hashtags (#rickyisallin) to new ways Ricky can engage with fans on Facebook.

Once the presentations end, we all head over to Athlete Services, where we’re escorted into a room that looks like a high-tech shoe store, albeit a shoe store with tools hanging on the walls. Ricky sits in a seat that resembles a barber’s chair, removes his shoes and socks, and places each foot on a sheet of plexiglass. A technician boots up a laptop and painstakingly scans Ricky’s foot. As he moves the scanner back and forth, a 3D image of Ricky’s foot develops on a screen in front of us, like something from a sci-fi movie. Years ago, shoe companies took plaster molds of their athletes’ feet. These days, it takes 10 minutes and a laptop and they’ve got an exact form. Then we head upstairs, where Ricky undergoes a body scan and is fitted for TechFit padded compression—Ricky tells the technician that his thighs don’t get banged up like many guys; instead he needs extra padding on the hips, where he often gets clipped coming off picks.

Finally, eight hours after we started, we head down to Grancio’s office, where Ricky sits, icing his knee again. Before he hits the employee store to stock up on gear, we finally get a chance to sit and talk…

KICKS: Tell me about your rookie season. Was it fun?

Ricky Rubio: It was so much fun. After a tough year in Spain, I was thinking about how fun basketball was when I was a kid. But the last year wasn’t like this. Since my first game in Minnesota, when the team was together, it was a different feeling. I felt freedom again. It was amazing.

KICKS: The first time I saw you was in ’07, and people wondered when you were coming to the NBA. Were you tired of hearing that?

RR: I wasn’t thinking about that. People can ask, people can talk, people can make their opinions, but I’m the one who will have my own opinion. I was ready in ’09 when I entered the Draft, but I couldn’t come. Finally, last year I was making a big step coming here to the League. Maybe it wasn’t after my best year in Spain, but I was sure I could play here, because when we played the US in the Olympic Games, that’s the kind of style I wanted to play. Seeing a lot of NBA the last couple of years, I was thinking about playing here some day. It finally came.

KICKS: You said your last year in Spain was tough. Why?

RR: I had a lot of pressure, even when I came here, and I was worried about that. It was a different pressure over there, because you must win, no matter how. Sometimes you prefer to have fun. Sometimes you lose, but if you had fun, for me that’s the most important thing, and the same level as winning. So sometimes when I lose one of them, I lose my identity, you know?

When the first issue of KICKS—the first all-sneaker based print magazine in the United States—hit stands 15 years ago, it felt like just the beginning of something. And it was.

Sneakers became national. Became cultural. Became worldwide across the web. A once underground, schoolyard fancied sub-culture became a public interconnected spectacle. KICKS became a new barometer for how popular kicks were.

Even in the shadow of our current Great Recession, athletic footwear is as hot as it’s ever been. Look at how kicks and the culture and the industry surrounding it have changed in the last decade and a half.

The new Air Jordan was something you purchased on a Wednesday. It’s historically the slowest retail day of the week. Then kids started skipping school. I did, too. Toward the end of the ’90s, under public pressure, Nike moved their fresh MJ signature merch from mid-week to the weekend. The kids followed. I did, too.

In 2012, Nike switched up their retail game plan again in a major way. If you want new Js now, it’s 8 a.m. No earlier. No over-the-counter product pre-sold days or weeks in advance either. You buy your shoes with sunshine or in the shade, online. If you want to cop from a handful of Nike-owned stores across the country, you’ll need a Twitter account, too.

When the first issue of KICKS hit, in ’98, Jordan Brand was pretty much a new subsidiary underneath the Nike umbrella. Today, the Jumpman is a $1 billion business division and growing, with a dominant market share in the basketball footwear category.

What’s old is new again, too. Forget spanning decades, try centuries. Some of the latest biomechanical research harks back to our hunter-gatherer ancestors who were shod in nothing more than the calloused skin on the bottoms of their feet, giving us pause on years of extravagant shoe industry marketing that championed the benefits of increasingly bigger and heavier cushioning along with thicker and foamier soles. Now, lowtops are trendy. Lightweight is in. Getting your foot closer to the ground is just as important in some circles as reaching for the rim or running the distance.

Adidas has made it a company-wide mission to own the lightest footwear in each sporting category. We’ve witnessed the first sub-10 ounce hoops shoe brought to market in the Crazy Light, and are seeing the adizero platform dominate the idea of minimalism.

Immensely ambitious new brands like Under Armour continue to make strides into the business, while familiar names like Reebok zig back into the picture again. Same goes for a bevy of fresh startups and revival brands all competing for the almighty dollar.

We’re in the opening stages of ushering in a new era in footwear where product is still king, but so too are the endlessly revolving brand relationships and experiences that are tightly woven into this new, 21st century footwear fabric.

Phil Knight’s company is leading the way with not just Nike+ for running shoes, but now digital sensors tracking your every move in basketball, training and more sports to come. There’s FuelBand. There’s miCoach by adidas. There’s dedicated apps and whole websites looking to immerse you—the consumer—in not only the brands but your own personal training habits.

Everyone from large media corporations to small social networks are magnifying, objectifying and intensifying what’s not just leather and rubber anymore but next-generation composites, space-age technologies and 1-to-1 customized fits for every pair of feet. Kicks are melding to your foot, to how you play, to how you style, to how you live, and the companies are spinning spools of fabrics and textiles into a constant stream of imaginative creations we haven’t even seen yet.

Matt Powell, retail analyst for SportsOneSource and essentially the go-to guy for athletic footwear industry sales data, told us that in the time that elapsed between KICKS 1 and now, the market size for sneakers has doubled. Online sales of shoes currently make up 11 percent. Powell projects that figure will jump to a giant 25 percent in just five years.

Here’s some behind-the-scenes footage of our KICKS 15 photo shoot with Cavs point guard Kyrie Irving, who we shot at Cleveland Clinic Courts earlier this month. Watch as the Rookie of the Year poses for a variety of flicks and talks sneakers with KICKS for the issue’s cover story, and then go cop the new ish, which is on newsstands now!

Over the course of his 23 years, Isaiah Thomas has been fit with his fair share of labels. In response, time and time again, Thomas has proven and reproven that the tags attached to him don’t define him. An example: As a shorter-than-average player coming up, Thomas was often deemed “too short” and “too little” to be an impact player. But where others saw a small, undersized guard, Thomas saw angles, balance, speed. Being so close to the court allowed him routes to the basket that were unavailable to bigger players, allowed him to use his low center of gravity to tip toe by denser defenders, allowed him to turn on the jets and blaze around the court like a Maserati.

Last June, after his junior year, Thomas left Washington, a fully grown 5-9, and was taken with the 60th and final pick in the ’11 NBA Draft by the Sacramento Kings. Thus a new label was applied: Mr. Irrelevant. A new label that, yet again, Thomas wouldn’t let define him.

In Sacto’s first regular-season game, a hard-fought win over the Lakers, Thomas not only got in the contest—something the ’09 and ’10 60th overall picks never did—he played more than 13 minutes and contributed 5 points, 2 rebounds and 2 assists. In his sixth game, he put up 15 and 5. And in his 11th contest, he scored 20 and had 6 assists. Thomas was named Western Conference Rookie of the Month in February. All big steps for a supposedly little, irrelevant man.

During the lockout-shortened season, Thomas played in 65 games, started 37, averaged 11.5 points and 4.1 assists, and finished seventh in ROY voting—all firsts for a Mr. Irrelevant.

“With Reebok’s support, the Kings and the Kings fans, they’ve really embraced me,” Thomas says. “Without them, I couldn’t be in this situation. They’ve helped me not only on court, but off the court as well.”

On the way to proving he’s worth his height in gold on the court, Thomas is equally as focused on his off-court legacy, as his Twitter bio reads: “If all I’m remembered for is being a good basketball player, then I’ve done a bad job with the rest of my life.”

In his quest to actualize those words, Thomas is staying busy. In addition to taking courses at Washington, where he’s on pace to graduate in July, he’s also involved in a slew of basketball camps that span the summer.

“I have the opportunity a lot of people don’t have,” Thomas says of the camps. “This is something I always wanted to do.”

Classes, camps—despite his NBA success, not much has changed for Thomas; that includes his preferred brand of kicks. “I wore Reeboks, and I always went to Reebok camps in the summer,” he recalls. “I’ve been to the legendary ABCD Camp, Reebok University and I also played on a couple Reebok-sponsored teams. So to be sponsored by Reebok now is just a blessing from God.”

While attending those camps, Isaiah could be found wearing the latest Iversons as he chased his NBA dream. “Back when I attended camps in the summer, Allen Iverson is a big reason why kids wore Reebok. Everybody wanted to be Allen Iverson.”

Now those same kids he’s engaging with in the summer all want to be Isaiah Thomas, the guy they saw wearing his own style of Reeboks on the NBA floor this past season, just like he saw Iverson do back in the day. “I had three pairs of customized Reeboks in Kings colors this season,” Thomas says. “Three pairs that I switched out every couple games, and they were great. They’re comfortable, light and they’re definitely what I need because I’m a small guy, so I need some comfortable shoes so I can get up and down the court.”

If Thomas caught anybody by surprise this season on his way up and down the court, he won’t next year. Which is why he’s training even harder this summer, all while completing those other legs in his personal marathon.

“Once the season is over, I go through it with a couple other people I work out with and pinpoint things I need to work on. This summer I’m doing a lot of CrossFit,” Thomas says of Reebok’s training program. “I really feel like it makes me a better basketball player on the court and will make me come even more ready for next season.

“The CrossFit program helped me a lot last season, so I’m focusing on it to help me again heading into my second year,” he continues. “It’s not too much heavy weightlifting like you would think though. CrossFit has a lot to do with your core and maintaining your body, which is what I’m trying to do.”

As Thomas continues plowing forward, continues exceeding expectations, continues shedding labels, he vows not to forget where this all started for him.

“I wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t for the people around me, and Rebook for trusting and signing me,” Thomas says. “I couldn’t thank them enough, because when other guys weren’t around, they stuck with me.”

When Atlanta Hawks forward Josh Smith reflects on his home court, Philips Arena, his feelings are understandably mixed. The A-Town native loves it when a packed house goes bonkers after he throws down one of his monster jams; he just hates it when that same packed house of fickle fans erupts just as loudly for Blake Griffin or Dwyane Wade.

“This year we were rated the worst sports town in all the United States,” Smith says. “I feel like we do deserve a little gratification from the fans. We’ve been good for five, six years now. I know it’s probably hard because of the recession to be able to get good seats, but you know, people inspire me in the nosebleeds. I just want to see you in the stands.”

Philips is pretty quiet again today, but it’s late June and the Hawks’ season is long over, so it makes sense. Adidas is in the building though, taping a commercial for the adizero Ghost 2, a shoe Smith will proudly be the face of this coming season. Inside the arena is a film crew, some extras in the seats and a couple of Indiana Pacers imposters on the floor. Nobody really to cheer for a block or jeer at a questionable 18-footer.

Thankfully, Josh’s relationship with adidas is rosier than his one with Atlanta. No love-kinda hate squabbles there. Just a good ol’ fashioned family. “Everybody’s cool, easy to get along with [at adidas],” Smith, who’s been with Three Stripes since ’04, insists. “Whenever I need any kind of product, it’s not a hassle. If I need anything for my family, they do the same. I’m just blessed to be in a situation where I’m comfortable, because I’m the type of person who works on trust.”

The bond blossomed in ’09-10, when JSmoove began endorsing his own shoe, the adizero Infiltrate. The brand re-connected with Josh for the adizero Ghost campaign last season. Its sleek, simple, spoken-word commercial is still one of last year’s most underrated. But if you think that promo was memorable, just wait until you see what the creative minds have in store for the Ghost 2 ads.

As for the shoe itself, it’s a closed-mesh, Sprintweb-enhanced sequel to the popular Ghost, one of the lightest shoes in the NBA. But in keeping with the airy feel, designers didn’t compromise things like traction or durability. That’s great news for Smith because, if he’s to keep Philips rockin’ this coming season, he’s going to need a shoe that’s as versatile as his game.

“I [look for] light, comfort and definitely style,” says Smoove. “You don’t want to go out there with something that’s not stylish. Style is so important these days, especially to the young population. They’re influenced by how a shoe looks because you know people will start wearing shoes with their jeans. [The Ghost 2] definitely has the style that it needs in order to grab the eye of a consumer.”

There Josh goes, considering his Atlanta fans’ feelings again. Now, if only Philips Arena would start consistently returning the love.

Athleticism generally falls into several categories: Below average, people with high body mass indexes and no desire to change; average, where you can run for about eight seconds before getting totally tired; slightly above average, where you have a gym membership and are just trying to get by, look good with a minimal amount of clothes on and not catch a hernia when you’re moving furniture up a five-story walkup. The latter category probably includes the largest percentage of the human pie. The last category, though, previously unmentioned, is that of the true elite who play for pay and exhibit feats on the regular that often defy the laws of physics or at least seem improbable to those of us under the heavy boot of gravity. There’s a big difference between regular athletic and that level of professional athletic. Truth is, that same difference—the one between the average Joe and average Pro—was equal to what happened in the ’99 season when Vince Carter came into the League. Strictly from an athletic vantage point, he made other professional athletes appear, well, unprofessional.

His first shoe was actually from Puma that was unofficially called The Vinsanity. Before long, Carter and the brand—more typically thought of as a source for lifestyle or running shoes—were disputing their contract, and VC played the ’99-00 season in a variety of kicks. One of those pairs—some beautiful two-toned AND 1s called Tai Chis—would be linked with him forever.

Some background: During the ’99-00 NBA campaign, the League was still recovering from the previous season’s lockout and looking for new faces to promote the game. VC, due to the otherworldly elegance of his in-game dunks and unmatchable-even-by-a-kangaroo hops, became one of these faces. The night the League really returned, though, and the night Carter really put his face—and a shoe—on the map, was February 13, 2000. As everyone now knows—and if you don’t, run to YouTube asap—that night’s Dunk Contest served as VC’s official coming out party. What everyone might not recall—though sneakerheads surely do—is Vince wearing a pair of red/white AND 1 Tai Chis during that dunking display. Vince’s performance—re-aired early and often on TV, and captured on camera by many—brought international recognition, and proof of the brand’s credibility as a performance outfitter, to AND 1.

Shortly after helping put Tai Chis on kids’ feet, VC signed with Nike and starting wearing the Shox (or more specifically, the Shox BB4). Though the line would have been popular regardless, Vince had yet another moment that propelled yet another shoe to stardom. This time it came on the international stage, at the 2000 Olympics in Sydney, where Carter jumped over—not around, but over, word to Doug Collins—Frédéric Weis, the French team’s 7-2 center.

VC helped popularize the Shox line—in addition to basketball there was also a cross-training and running shoe line—and it became one of Nike’s signature technologies during the first few years of the new century. Based on the science of kinetic energy, Shox Technology ensures, basically, that the energy that its wearer puts out won’t dissipate. In fact, rather, Shox returns that energy right back to the shoe and the wearer, thus providing somewhat of a natural spring-y feel.The components used to create the actual springs were at the height of cutting-edge engineering and also—and this is of almost equal importance—gave the shoes a futuristic design profile.

After the BB4 came Vince Carter’s signature shoes. The first one, which still utilized Shox, was simply called the “VC I” and each subsequent offering continued on the numerical scale, with each shoe a little different from the previous edition. What the shoes did well was utilize an innovative, new support system that provided light (at the time) footwear that still gave a sort of bounce effect. Who better to push a bounce-based shoe than Half-Man, Half-Amazing?

Much like Carter himself, the Tai Chi and the Shox lines aren’t quite the attention-getters they once were. But we think all three deserve recognition for pushing the culture forward and serving as a demarcation line between the 20th and 21st centuries.

For the cover of KICKS 15, we paired Cavs point guard Kyrie Irving with photographerTrevor Paulhus at Cleveland Clinic Courts, the result being the gallery of images you see above. Check ’em all out and be sure to cop our new ish, which is on newsstands now!

SLAM was on set for the new Foot Locker #Approved ad campaign, featuring Carmelo Anthony, Russell Westbrook, James Harden, Kevin Love and Chris Bosh. Check out the exclusive, behind-the-scenes pics from the two days of filming in Las Vegas in the gallery below.—Ed.

A couple of Wednesdays ago, after an evening of cancelled flights and, ultimately, an eight-hour overnight drive, I arrived at Cleveland Clinic Courts 40 minutes early for the KICKS covershoot. Sleepless, stressed and on the verge of a complete mental meltdown, I was one more mishap away from going off. I was one pushy handler, one late-arriving subject, from letting someone have it.

Then, with 15 minutes still to go until call time, Kyrie Irving walked into the Cavs’ breathtakingly beautiful practice facility with three of his friends and my mood changed.

When I was assigned to write about Irving for the cover, I immediately had an angle in mind: Based on a slew of factors—he’s camera-ready (singing in the school show at St. Pat’s helped him overcome stage fright), charismatic (that comes from his dad, who’s also a people-person), comfortable in his skin (“that’s just me”) and well-rounded (tried out for football as freshman, skateboarded for four years and played varsity baseball as a high school senior)—Irving, an endorser of Nike, is well on his way to becoming one of the most marketable players in basketball.

Well, within moments of meeting Irving, my hypothesis was confirmed.

From catching a 5:30 a.m. flight that morning and arriving early to our shoot, to making eye-contact when answering tricky questions, to working well with our dope photographer, to making everyone in the building feel like his long-time friend, Irving proved himself to be one of the most mature, likable 20 year olds around.

People paid to cover basketball have known about Irving’s game, if not his personality, since his high school days at St. Patrick in Elizabeth, NJ. People who are pretty steeped in basketball found out about him in his injury-shortened season at Duke and were reminded of his prowess during his Rookie of the Year season in Cleveland. Casual fans, though, really learned about him this past spring, when, in conjunction with Pepsi Max, Irving unveiled his Uncle Drew character.

“When I see people I’m also known as Uncle Drew,” Irving, who co-wrote the skit which has been viewed more than 14,000,000 times on Youtube, says. “Uncle Drew in the airport, Uncle Drew in the Bahamas, Uncle Drew everywhere.”

With that on his marketing resume, Irving is now ready to do the same for Nike, is now ready to become the newest face of Swoosh’s basketball wing. After all, having grown up watching his dad, Drederick, maneuver on Wall Street, Irving is schooled beyond his years in business. He knows the deals he currently has, envisions the future deals he wants, and he knows what he wants to do with the fortune and fame.

“This is something that I want to feed my family doing for long time,” Irving says. “It really makes me happy, seeing my father happy, basically being able to give him anything he wants. He made so many sacrifices for me to get here.”

Irving refers to himself as the “Universal Player” because of the way his game was honed, because he grew up playing in the suburb of West Orange but would make weekly forays to play in the Bronx borough of NY where his dad grew up, because he played at all-white Montclair Kimberly Academy and then transferred to, what he terms, the “polar opposite” St. Pat’s. He credits his diverse street-meets-burbs game—what Sandy Pyonin, his trainer and AAU coach, calls old school, new school—to playing in those varying environs. What goes unsaid, but certainly not unobserved, is how those same experiences molded him into a universal, cross-cultural pitchman.

The perfect pitchman for Nike.

Still, Irving realizes this is just the beginning. Rookie of the Year, star of a viral video, wearer of Nike, on the cover of KICKS—it’s all great. But Irving wants to do even more next year. “I was trying to figure a lot of things out last season, so I didn’t really feel comfortable playing my complete game,” Irving, who’s coming off of a fractured bone near his pinkie that required six screws, says. “I feel like next season I’m gonna bring a new gear, a new level, that I didn’t get a chance to show. A year under my belt, and now the game’s just gonna slow down, my third year it’ll slow down, and my fourth it’ll slow down…I think I can become one of the best in the League.”

Now that, even in my sleep-deprive state, sounds like a scary thought.

Aside from my story on Irving (which includes details about his injury, childhood in NJ, recent bet with Kobe, preferred Nikes and more), KICKS 15 is packed with all of the usual goodness. There are particularly dope stories on Chris Paul, Ricky Rubio, spoken word artist Lemon Andersen and AND1, and pretty much every major sneaker brand is featured. Throw in a couple of kicks-as-the-messenger-to-kids stories, some amazing visuals, and you have yourself a great issue.